


Cigarettes and Alcohol

by highestkingbambi



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Bisexuals being bros and then fucking cause there is nothing else to do, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunk Sex, F/M, Penny/Alice is background and only metioned, Quentin POV, Set after the first Beast attack, Smoking, Smut, drinking to get drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 07:11:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14869109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highestkingbambi/pseuds/highestkingbambi
Summary: In an alternate reality where Alice and Penny hooked up at he beginning of the semester, Quentin is one of the reluctant additions to the foursome that accidentally summoned the Beast.Faced with the likelihood of being found out and expelled from Brakebill’s for something he didn’t even want to do in the first place, he gets drunk with an unexpected companion.





	Cigarettes and Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the Oasis song, because I was listening to old EPs while I wrote this. 
> 
> Thanks to WildeBones for the quick Beta and the awesome free traders who put up with my questions over the last few days.

Quentin thinks he should have paid better attention when he swiped the alcohol from Penny’s side of their shared dorm room. Whiskey has never been his liquor of choice. For it to not even be real whiskey—that is so much worse.

Regardless, it is just as good as any other at getting him pass out drunk, and after what happened in the now late Professor Van Der Weghe’s class, pass out drunk is exactly the state of mind he needs to be in.

It is all their fault.

Well, actually it is Alice’s fault, but then the Beast said his name and his name alone. So it probably isn’t Alice’s fault. That doesn’t mean he can’t blame her and stupid Penny for dragging him along in their plan to summon her brother. Now one professor is dead, the Dean is barely alive, and the idea that they were ever safe is now permanently destroyed.

What else is there left to do, but drink until he is comatose? All four of them will be expelled in the morning, once the staff work out what they did. And they will work it out. They are Magicians and Quentin, he is just an idiot with some slightly better than average card tricks. The others, they might be a little more experienced than he, but they are all just as fucking dumb for getting involved.

Desperate, miserable and sweating bullets, Quentin holds the bottle of Southern Comfort by the neck. His arm swings between his legs, bottle smacking against his ankles like the world’s most poorly constructed pendulum. He sits crouched on the stairs outside the dorms. It’s horribly conspicuous, but he doesn’t care. He has nothing left to lose.

“The trick is to actually drink it.”

He hears Kady’s voice from behind him and turns just in time to see her sit down on his right. She takes care to sit one step up, just in case he gets the wrong idea and thinks that they are friends.

“I have been,” he replies. “Straight is just not my usual style.” As soon as the words escape his mouth he realizes the implication of his sentence, and from the little he knows of Kady, it won’t be lost on her. He takes a swig from the bottle and winces as the liquid hits the back of his throat.

“You can say that again,” Kady says snatching the bottle from him and downing a much larger amount than he ever could in one go. “Ugh, this is shit.”

“Not mine,” he says simply. “What are you doing out here?” asks Quentin, artlessly changing the topic. He throws out his hand to request the bottle back. To his surprise, she hands it to him right away. He takes another swig and the burning sensation isn’t as strong; he’s getting used to the liquor.

“Same reason as you probably, my life is over and my roommate won’t let me in. Probably crying or fucking or some shit,” she shrugs and rolls her eyes as if the second half of the sentence is a regular occurrence.

“My room is free, I just didn’t want to be in there,” Quentin mumbles, before bringing the bottle back to his lips. It hovers there while he considers if he is ready for more. Of course he is. He’s drinking to forget how majorly fucked they are.

“How did you even get caught up in this?” Kady steals the bottle from his lips before he takes his sip and once again downs a large gulp.

“Fucking Penny.” He complains, dropping his shoulders. Quentin is still pissed off that he didn’t have the balls to say no back when they first approached him to help summon Alice’s brother. “Bastard drags me out of bed in the middle of the night because Alice needs help. Like I should care. You?” This time Quentin snatches the alcohol back, receiving a curious smirk in return.

Kady slides down the step to sit beside him and looks him in the eye. For the first time, Quentin notices that she has beautiful, terrifying grey-green eyes. They remind him of the bizarre whirlpool installation Julia made him go to with her in Brooklyn Park*, and if he’s not careful they will suck him in. While he’s distracted by her stare, she slips the bottle from his hands and brings it up to her lips. Sipping the amber liquid, she gives him a wink. She’s terrifying.

“Alice needed help,” she pulls back and shrugs innocently. “And she promised she’d help me with something in return.”

Quentin can’t hide the shock that Alice Quinn is willing to help anyone. Other than Penny, she keeps everyone at a distance that would rival Mr. Fantastic’s arm reach. For a moment his mind wanders to the disappointment that they still can’t make a good Fantastic Four movie. Not that he hasn’t watched both versions—more than once. Mostly to drool over both sets of Storm siblings. Eventually, he realizes that Kady is looking at him like he’s lost his mind and he remembers what they were talking about.

“Wait, she was going to help with something? Every time I’ve tried to talk to her she just tells me off,” Quentin whines and he feels just enough like a child doing that he lets his hair fall over his face in embarrassment.

“Maybe if you looked at her face instead of her tits, she’d be more willing.” Her wink is back and Quentin is so glad he’s already hiding behind a curtain of limp brown strands so she can’t see the violent blush growing on his cheeks. “No judgment dude, I’ve done it too. They’re hypnotic.”

Leaning back against the stairs, Kady smiles. It almost looks as if she is warming to him. Brushing the hair back off his face, his eyes light up at the slight feeling of companionship.

“They are! They’re like the Mona Lisa, or, maybe not. What is something that you can’t look away from?” Quentin rambles and he thinks he might finally be tipsy.

“A car crash?” Kady offers, and he must be imagining he can hear a slight laugh escape her lips because if it were real that would mean that they were bonding. Kady doesn’t seem like the type to bond.

“Yes! No...but something similar, only good. No wonder Penny is wrapped around her finger,” he says. Giving up on the description, Quentin leans back on his elbows, taking back the bottle.

“Makes sense. She’s hot, he’s hot.” Kady says, not fighting him this time. Instead, she reaches into her vest pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Before he can even register what she’s doing, there is one between her lips and with a snap of her fingers, it’s lit. “Want one?”

Quentin considers it for a moment and against his better judgment accepts. Only he doesn’t yet know how to light it and he’s too proud to ask her to show him. Staring at the cigarette, as if sheer will alone is enough to produce fire, he pauses. It doesn’t take Kady long to figure out how lost he is, and with a second snap, the end begins to burn.

“I’m not getting drunk fast enough,” he laments between taking a swig and a puff. Quentin feels cooler than he ever has in his life, but he still can’t ignore the fear over the fate in store for him. As soon as Sunderland and co work out that he is culpable in allowing the Beast to enter Brakebill’s his time as a magician is over. Without magic, he is no one. Being cool for a moment is pointless.

“You never will if you take such small sips,” Kady says, nudging him as he takes another sip so that the bottle clinks against his teeth. A mix of spittle and liqueur leave Quentin’s mouth and he snorts in response.

“Do you…” he starts, before wiping his sleeve across his mouth. “Do you think they can expel us if we’re unconscious?” He asks, desperately clinging to anything that might save him; save them both.

“I think they should never have let such an idiot in here in the first place,” Kady says, and it’s only when he looks over and sees the grin on her face that he realizes its a joke. When he thinks about it, everything is a joke.

If everything is a joke, then nothing matters and he might as well stop worrying about something that is yet to happen. Quentin figures should just enjoy drinking in company; he can wallow when the sun rises. Bringing the cigarette back to his lips, he inhales deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs, and the nicotine go straight to his head. Quentin releases it slowly above them in an uncontrolled cloud.

“Rude. You’re rude,” he says lazily, turning back to face Kady and try and give her the same kind of stare she threw at him earlier. To no one's surprise, it fails.

“What are you going to do about it?” She says with a punch to his arm. Her fist barely touches him, yet it leaves him smarting. The bottle drops between them, the thick glass clanks on the concrete steps—thankfully not breaking.

“Keep drinking probably,” he says, reaching across his body. Quentin slides his left hand beneath the crumpled cloth of his shirt. He slips it down to rub his bicep where she hit him and hopes it doesn’t bruise.

As if just to annoy him, she snatches the bottle from the step between them. “Oh yeah, how you gonna do that?” she teases, holding it above his head. With one hand caught inside his opposite sleeve and the other clutching the cigarette, he has no hope of taking it back from her without burning himself. Kady catches sight of his helplessness and laughs louder than he ever thought her capable of. The sound is infectious and Quentin can’t help but do the same, falling forwards down the last step as he extricates his hand from under his shirt.

Gravel crunches underfoot, but the two students remain ignorant to no longer being alone. Kady offers Quentin a hand to pull him back from where he squirms on the ground. Face now red from laughter, rather than embarrassment, he accepts her assistance and scrambles back up to the steps.

“You two, go to your rooms.” Their fun is interrupted by a deep and familiar voice approaching from the shadows. They see a man in all black walk past, paying them no mind except for the order to leave.

“Yes, ma’am.” Quentin salutes. His voice is far too loud for the early morning, and he covers his mouth in a delayed attempt to quiet himself.

“Now!” The man commands as he strides out of their view.

“Dude, that was Professor March,” Kady says. She goes to punch him in the arm again but appears to think the better of it.

“So?” Quentin asks, still unaware of his mistake.

“Not a ma’am,” she explains. Instead of the punch, she ruffles Quentin’s hair.

“Oops, sorry,” he lets out a giggle.

Pushing herself up from the steps, Kady is the first to follow Professor March’s directions. Once again she holds out a hand to help Quentin up. In the small amount of time they have known each other, and even smaller amount of time they have interacted, it’s obvious she’s picked up just how clumsy he is.

Before he takes it, Quentin drops his cigarette to the ground and crushes it under his foot. Picking it up, he slips it into his shirt pocket to throw away later. He extends his arm and they grab each other by the wrist so she can pull him up.

With Quentin standing, Kady lets out a sigh. “I can’t go back to my room,” she says, dropping her hands to her hips in what looks like defeat.

“Why?” Quentin asks, having forgotten they already had this conversation.

“Well, Alice is there and if she’s not crying, I might kill her,” she shrugs and Quentin finally works out that their roommates are together.

“If Penny’s there, she‘ll be crying in a whole other way,” he tries to joke, as he pushes the door to the dorms open for them both to walk through.

“You’re a gossipy bitch when you drink,” she says, accidentally nudging him into the doorway as they both try to enter at the same time.

“Not just when I drink,” Quentin tries a smirk as he rubs the arm that Kady seems determined to injure. Picking up his speed he gets in front of her before they reach the large staircase, stopping her in her tracks. He’s thinking of an offer that he isn’t sure he should make, but she doesn’t seem to have any other option and he’s not sure he’s ready to be alone. “You can crash in my room if you want.”

Kady pauses and looks him dead on as if she can read his mind. Her arms cross over her body and Quentin feels like instead of offering her a place to stay he’s asked her to smack him across the face. After a beat, she shrugs and nods. “Don’t try anything,” she adds and Quentin knows that he couldn’t even if wants to. Which he doesn’t.

“You’re terrifying, the only thing I’ll be trying is to pass out,” he says clearly. The fear of Kady ripping off his balls over a misunderstanding quickly sobers him up.

Taking the staircase two steps at a time, Quentin leads Kady to the dorm room he shares with Penny. He fumbles with his keys trying to open the door until she steals them from him and does it herself.

“You’re a mess,” she says, easily opening the door. Refusing to wait for him, Kady enters the room first, taking her care to look around. Dirty clothes lie on the ground, both beds are unmade. Quentin really didn’t think this through.

While Quentin tries to tidy up, Kady sees a bottle of Jack Daniel’s on Penny’s nightstand and switches it for the half-empty bottle of Southern Comfort. “Why didn’t you swipe this instead?” She asks and Quentin assumes it’s rhetorical. Throwing someone’s underwear off a desk chair, Kady turns it around to sit on it back to front.

“I gotta take a piss. Where are the bathrooms on this floor?” This time the question requires an answer. Shoving his dirty clothes into a small hamper, Quentin looks up at her and explains the directions.

When she gets up to leave, he decides to go with her. Just thinking about peeing has him desperate to go. “I’m sorry,” he says when she looks at him, confused. “It’s just that you said piss and bathroom and I won’t be able to sit still until I go too,” he explains, pointing ahead to the floor’s shared bathroom. He waits outside until she finishes, and averts his eyes as she walks straight past him and back to his room.

“If you take too long, I’ll finish the whiskey,” she threatens him, turning before she opens the dormitory door to see him scramble into the bathroom.

By the time he gets back, Kady has made herself comfortable in his room. Her vest hangs over the edge of his desk, leaving her in a plain white tee and skin-tight jeans. It’s not lost on him that without his overshirt they are almost identically dressed.

In the background, Penny’s stereo plays rock music that he’s only vaguely familiar with. The rest of his dirty clothes are missing, and if it weren't for a few items peaking beneath his unmade bed, he wouldn’t know she kicked them under. She sits on the chair, leaning back against the wall with her bare feet resting on his bed; her combat boots lined up neatly next to the door.

Quentin slips his own desert boots and socks off and places them next to hers, before crashing down onto his bed. He throws his arm out towards her and she hands him the bottle of Jack. “Thanks, I’m starting to sober up,” he says, immediately taking a sip. The whiskey tastes so much better than the shit they were drinking before, but both desperately need a mixer before he can really enjoy them.

“You should sit up for that. I’m not dealing with you drowning in your own bed tonight,” Kady says trying to snatch the bottle back. The movement has her lose her balance on the precariously placed chair, and she crashes to the floor. “Shit, my bad,” she laughs, easily collecting herself. She’s exactly as tough as she looks.

“And you think I’m hopeless?” Quentin asks sarcastically. Putting the bottle down, he offers her a hand to get up. “You know you can lay here, I won’t do anything weird. Promise.” He starts to pat the bed, before realizing how fucking creepy it is. Instead, he shrugs and grabs hold of the bottle again before it tips on the uneven surface.

Standing beside the bed, Kady considers her options for the moment. Thinking about once again promising he’s not trying anything, Quentin decides against it. He knows from experience the more times you deny something the more likely someone is going to think you’re lying—and he’s really not trying anything. She can always take Penny’s bed, but then passing the bottle is so much harder across the room and he’s pretty sure neither of them is telekinetic.

“Yeah. Whatever,” she says, leaping onto the mattress. The force of her landing bounces him from his spot, and he adjusts his position to sit upright next to her, their backs against the bed head.

Passing the bottle between them, they sit together talking shit about their classmates. They actively avoid even getting close to mentioning the horror they witnessed and the fate the lies in store for them. When the conversation lulls, Quentin starts to worry that she’ll fall asleep and leave him alone with his fears. Even a moment of silence is enough to start the cogs turning, launching him into dark ideas of his future.

“You know, you’re not as bad as I thought Quentin Coldwater,” Kady snaps him from his miserable thoughts. “Seriously what the fuck kind of name is that?”

“It’s, it’s my name,” he answers, and he’s shocked to find that his words are slurring a little. That’s what kind of name it is,” he giggles, considering that her assessment of his name isn’t actually untrue. It was a ridiculous name. Quentin is slightly more than tipsy.

“It’s cute. You’re cute, like a rabbit or a squirrel,” says Kady, and he thinks that she is probably tipsy too. Which makes sense, she did drink more than him—marginally.

“Squirrel?” He asks, still in shock over how friendly she’s being.

“Dude, I don’t fucking know.” His question earns another light punch. This time not hard enough to make him smart; she’s worked out just how fragile he is. “I’m being nice to you,” she replies, right back to being the Kady he only sort of knows.

“Yeah, well you’re like a kitten,” he says, turning on the bed to face her. “No that’s not true,” he fixes his words, his face all seriousness. “You’re awesome...what you did today...”

“It’s nothing, just practice,” she interrupts him, brushing the compliment off. Adjusting her position, she rolls her head against the headboard, eyes catching the genuine look of awe in Quentin’s expression.

“That’s, it wasn’t nothing. Kady, you saved us from that thing,” Quentin doubles down on his compliments. He unwittingly leans onto her, trying to make his point. “We all owe you our lives.”

“Not the first monster I’ve had to deal with,” she says simply, allowing her head to drop onto his shoulder.

Realising his mouth is dry, Quentin inadvertently licks his lips. They are so close now. The bottle of Jack Daniel’s lies on the bed between them, the cap firmly screwed on for some time now.

“You think Penny is going to leave Alice tonight and come back here?” Quentin backs off, remembering she warned him not to try anything. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he tries to make himself small.

“How about if he does, we give him a taste of his own medicine?” To his surprise, Kady places a hand on his knee and leads him to release his pose.

“What?” Quentin asks, still in shock that he’s not being shoved onto the floor.

Before he knows it, Kady is getting up from her place beside him. She moves the whiskey to his nightstand. Slowly working out what is happening, Quentin finds his hands automatically reach for her waist as she straddles his body. It’s everything he promised he wouldn’t try, and while he didn’t expect it, he’s far from opposed to her actions.

“Just go with it before I remember how much of a nerd you are and change my mind,” Kady whispers, as her hands cup his face. She tosses her hair back over her shoulders and Quentin takes the opportunity to lean up into her. He breathes in deeply, taking in the scent of the cigarettes and alcohol they consumed, alongside a faint hint of coconut. Wondering if the scent comes from her moisturizer or her shampoo, she catches his lips in a kiss he never expected.

Kady’s lips are chapped in a way that is so familiar to him. Broken and torn by teeth and an inability to keep still in any way shape or form. Letting his eyes fall closed, Quentin kisses her back. He tentatively runs his tongue across her lips and she pulls him closer, urging him on.

Quickly replacing his gentleness with a desperate urgency, Quentin matches Kady’s intensity. Their tongues dance a battle, both looking to take the lead, and he knows that she will come out the winner as the dominant player in their unlikely hookup. He can’t help but find that even more arousing than simply having her straddle his lap.

Dropping her hands to his chest, she pulls at his overshirt. Quentin leans forward to help her slide it over his shoulders, leaving him in just a tee that he hopes will also soon be removed. He slips his hands beneath the hem of her own tee, breaking their lips apart before easily lifting it over her head. Quentin throws it across the room and looks back at her; a vision of black lace and porcelain skin.

He brings his lips to her neck and kisses roughly against her skin. The sensation has her wrap her legs around his waist, and Quentin takes the opportunity to lift them both up. He moves his hands to her lower back, supporting her while he trails his lips along her collarbone. With a strength of resolve that only liquid courage can provide, he lays her down on her back at the foot of the bed. It’s so much easier in this position for him to bring his lips to her breasts, while she gasps at his touch.

Distracted by the view, Quentin misses the way her fingers hook in under his shirt, almost tearing it off him. Cool air flows over his back while the force of her action rips his mouth from her body. He stares, open-mouthed at her, allowing Kady the chance to take hold and flip him beneath her. Mounted on his hips, she towers over him, her long curls brushing over his chest.

Now in control, Kady kisses him roughly, her tongue hungry in his mouth. Sweat starts to bead on his brow and he tries to hold her close to keep it going. To his initial dismay, she has other ideas, breaking them apart to trace her tongue down his now sweating chest until it reaches the light trail of hair beneath his navel. Her fingers pull at the button of his skinny jeans and he decides to follow suit. Quentin’s button is easier to undo than Kady’s and they get caught for a moment, causing them both to burst out laughing. Their urgency takes a beat, while she helps him remove her pants, swiftly peeling his own off as soon as she’s free.

“How do you fit those pants over these?” she asks, flicking at the band of his boxer shorts. They snap back against his hips, just catching the hardening head of his cock. He winces at the touch, earning a wicked smile in return.

“With great, uh, difficulty,” he answers.

Threading his fingers into her hair, Quentin brings her head down to his own, wiping the smile off her face with a hungry kiss. He uses the moment to try and remove her bra, finding himself thwarted by the lack of a clasp on her back.

Placing her hands on his shoulders, she pushes herself up, grinding against him as she finds her balance. She raises her eyebrow and slowly brings her fingers up to her chest. They linger over the middle of her bra before she releases the clasp and lets the straps fall down her arms. Naked but for the simple black panties that barely cover her, Kady sits on top of him. Her fingers trail over his perspiring chest, tracing around his sensitive nipples to produce an involuntary gasp.

“You like that, huh?” she says, her voice hoarse with want.

Quentin mumbles his agreement, and she brings her tongue down to lick him in response. His body shudders at the feeling, his hips buck up and he grinds against her. Ever so slightly Kady loses her balance, and Quentin takes the chance to flip her over.

Once on top, he glides his hand down her body, barely touching the skin. His eyes light up at the sight of her hardening nipples, and he lowers his lips to suck while he slips a hand between her legs. Beneath her panties, he brushes his fingers through her unruly hair until he finds her lower lips. Quentin finds her slightly wet and he’s determined to make her moreso, rubbing his index and forefinger in alternating strokes between her labia and her clitoris. Back arching, she presses her body into his and he knows he’s ready.

Unable to think of any sexy way to ask her if she is too, he brings his lips back up to her face. Placing kisses along her sharp cheekbone, he continues to massage, feeling her get wetter with every stroke.

“Stop playing around and find a fucking rubber,” she says through gritted teeth. To punctuate her desire she palms his cock through his boxers, leaving him begging for more.

“Just, uh,” he stutters through broken breaths. “A sec.”

Quentin picks himself up and reaches over to his nightstand to fumble for a condom, grabbing a bottle of lube while he’s there. With him occupied, Kady removes her legs from between his thighs and slips her panties off, dropping them to the floor as his eyes come back to her.

“You’re, f-fuck you’re,” he struggles to make his words, hurrying to remove his own underwear, almost falling off the bed for his efforts.

“I know,” she says. He would find her conceited if it were so fucking true. “Lie down,” she orders, taking the condom and lube from him. Quentin is so hard, he’s incapable of doing anything but whatever she says. Stark naked, on his back, he waits at her mercy. Taking her time, she tears the foil open with her teeth and slowly rolls it over his cock. Fingers wrap around him, and she pumps him gently while her other hand squeezes the bottle of lube over the top of his dick.

The noises that escape his mouth elicit an evil glint in her eye and he begs for her to let him enter. Kady rocks up on her knees, hovering for a moment, teasing him while he begs some more. When he’s not sure how much more he can take she lowers herself on to him, and he moans at the feeling of tightness.

Her feet loop beneath his knees and she gets her leverage to ride him harder than he can remember being ridden by a woman. One hand grips at his waist, while the other pulls at his hair. Quentin reaches up to her breasts, stroking his thumb across her nipple as he bucks to her rhythm. Her curls fall between them, ticking his heaving chest. Breathing gets harder, and he feels his hair soaked with sweat. Controlling the action, Kady has him working for his pleasure, guiding him to where she wants him.

Kady slows to move her hair behind her back and drops to kiss him once again. She nibbles at his lower lip, while Quentin thrusts into her, feeling her tighten around his cock with every movement.

The sheets beneath them soak with sweat, and Quentin can hardly believe that mere hours ago he was drinking alone, waiting for his life to end.

His body feels light and he thinks he’s close. Trying to think of anything but coming, he tries to slow the pace. Refusing to accept his change of speed, Kady rides him harder, the hand in his hair pulling at the strands in a way that has him begging for more. She uses her free hand to brace them against the ceiling of his dorm room and Quentin realizes that the lightness he felt was them levitating.

“How...how is?” he tries to ask, grabbing at her hips to steady himself.

“Shut up and fuck me,” she replies and he can’t deny her command.

Quentin redoubles his efforts and thrusts into her with renewed vigor. His body is drenched, and he sees the sweat beading on her collarbone. Gripping tighter on her hips, he causes her skin to redden while she tears at his hair. The pain is minimal, only serving to enhance his pleasure and he hopes it does the same to her.

“Tell-tell me if I’m hurting you,” he manages to stutter, earning a confused look. She pulls his hair harder, spurring him to forget his fears of hurting her and fuck her as hard as he can.

Head thrown back, Kady moans, her body shudders and Quentin knows she’s getting off. The sound of her pleasure is all it takes and he comes inside her as they lower back to the bed.

Back on the bed, she rolls off him and lies on her back panting softly. Peeling the condom off, he wraps his fingers around his softening cock and pumps the last few dregs of cum onto his fist, chest heaving at the final exertion. After a few short breaths, he reaches over to grab a handful of tissues from his nightstand and wipes himself up. Quentin slides off the bed, stands, and throws everything in the trash.

Finding a fresh pair of boxers, he puts them on and goes to return to his bed. His eyes lock onto Kady, panties on, but her breasts still exposed, lazing on the sweat covered duvet.

“You got a t-shirt I can borrow?” she asks, and Quentin grabs the nearest clean tee from his closet. When she pulls it over her head, it fits her perfectly. He tries not to think about the likelihood of having his memories taken, and focuses on how good she looks in his vintage Star Wars t-shirt.

Still not quite believing what just happened, he hesitates before joining her in the bed again. “Come on, I won’t bite you—again,” she says.

“Not sure I believe you,” he tries to flirt back, while he takes his place on the bed and earns a light punch in that same sore spot on his right arm.

Before he knows it, Kady has a cigarette in her mouth and she’s blowing smoke rings above them. Going to take it from her, he notices a tattoo on her wrist that looks a lot like a spell and traces his finger down it instead.

“Inkspell I did with a friend as a teenager,” she explains, piquing his curiosity.

“Inkspell?” he asks, his mind leaping to a million conclusions. “What does it do? Is that how we ended up on the ceiling?”

Kady laughs and it’s obvious he’s way off base with his guesses. “You’ve never done sex magic before?” she asks, though the answer is clear. “This here, this is just to see in the dark. I’ve got perfect night vision.”

“You do?” he asks, taking her by the wrist and rubbing his thumb over the black ink, his mind quickly runs through all the possible uses for such an ability but he can only focus on one. “Hey, do you, you think you could give me one?”

“Why?” she asks, removing his hand from her wrist so she can smoke.

“Don’t laugh, but...if I have perfect night vision I can read in the dark and Penny won’t throw shit at me,” he admits, not knowing why he’s being so open, other than the fact that he just had most likely the best sex of his life.

Blowing smoke into his face, Kady leans up and kisses him. She pulls back and falls into the pillow, laughing. He can’t help but join in, his request was so painfully innocent, even he knows it’s ridiculous.

“If we don’t get expelled, I promise to give you one, but you better not cry on me,” she says. Kady lifts herself up and climbs over him. Draped over him, she drops the butt of her cigarette in an empty glass on his nightstand. She rolls over his body, brushing over his cock. The sensation has him aroused once again, though his body is far from ready.

“Thanks,” he says, smiling as she closes her eyes beside him.

It doesn’t take long before the physical exhaustion has them both fast asleep. For the first time in a long time, he sleeps without dreaming, without fear. Quentin doesn’t even worry about being found out and expelled, his memories of magic ripped from his mind.

A few hours later, sunlight through the window wakes him, still slightly drunk. Thinking of Kady, he turns to find an empty bed. Through sleep filled eyes, he spies her near the door, putting on her boots to leave. She’s still wearing his t-shirt, and he makes to ask if he’ll get it back.

“Think of it as a souvenir,” she cuts him off, and he’s forced to say goodbye to one of his favorite items of clothing.

“Do you even like Star Wars,” he asks, voice hoarse from dehydration.

Kady stops and faces him, eyebrow raised in what he thinks might be offense. “Is Chewbacca from Kashyyyk?” She replies with that icy stare, her face barely changing as she drops a reference that a casual fan wouldn’t know. He mumbles his agreement, praying she doesn’t wait around for him to argue. If she doesn’t leave quickly he’ll be caught in an embarrassingly nerdy state of arousal. He’s almost hard again and basically leaking, but he’s far too proud to make it so obvious.

Wiping his eyes, and willing himself down, his vision clears in time to see her bump into Penny entering the room as she leaves. Before his roommate has a chance to say anything, Quentin sits up in his bed and clears his throat.

“I swear to God, Penny. If you and Alice get me expelled I will find a way to kill you for causing me to forget that,” he threatens with far more bravado than he’s normally capable of. “Also, you have terrible taste in alcohol,” he adds, quickly grabbing a towel and racing out the door.

Quentin runs to the showers, slamming the door behind him. He might have enough courage to call Penny out, but he’s not stupid enough to hang around and see his reaction.

“There’s no hot water left,” his classmate Surendra tells him as he jumps into a stall.

Quentin doesn’t answer. If he did, he would say a cold shower is exactly what he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> *The installation I referenced is called Descension, by Anish Kapoor. Normally he dyes the water pitch black, but decided to leave it its normal grey/green/blue colour when he installed it in Brooklyn Park May 2017.
> 
> —
> 
> If anyone is curious where this idea came from it’s a long game of six degrees of separation that starts with me wondering where I left my Doc Martens, leaps to a desire to see Kady and Quentin switch clothes and ends with smut, as all good ideas do. I didn’t quite get to the mutual clothes swapping, but you never know what the future holds.


End file.
